


Sex Education

by GoldenJezebel, ishipthemsogoddamnhard



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Older Man/Younger Woman, Porn with Feelings, Slightly older Abigail (maybe 22), Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 23:08:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenJezebel/pseuds/GoldenJezebel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishipthemsogoddamnhard/pseuds/ishipthemsogoddamnhard
Summary: When Abigail goes off to join the FBI, she falls under the tutelage of Will Graham, a sour, seemingly abrasive professor. But before long, she comes to realize that he's chosen her not only as his intern, but as his sexual protege.





	Sex Education

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look I'm back on my bullshit. AKA not finishing my WIPs and starting a new fic instead with my fabulous writing partner GoldenJezebel :D
> 
> Abigram student/teacher kink AU...enjoy!

Abigail was nervous but more than ready for her first day at the FBI Academy. She had worked hard – personally and academically – to get accepted to study here. She wanted to prove herself capable, despite her... _family history._

Nonetheless she hadn’t had much idea of how it would go, how things would be the same and how they might be new compared to undergrad. It was a little daunting. Abigail was particularly curious about her teachers. In college, her professors had all been much the same ‘type’ but would this be different? She had envisioned sharp, scary women and huge – even scarier – men; all of whom might be hardened by the field and tough on her.

She had not envisioned Will Graham.

He was younger than she had expected and his clothes rather...quirky. His face was clearly attractive and softer than his best efforts to look sullen and unapproachable would suggest. After class, she felt compelled to talk to him. Will, however, wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.

It was a brand new semester, and he hadn't gotten much sleep the night prior. Between insomnia and night terrors, Will had managed to glean a meager three hours of rest, but had used his typical brusque, detached mannerisms to mask his weariness as he'd gone through his lecture. Each year, he grew considerably more disenchanted. He wanted to be in the field like his colleagues, but supposed that being able to help vicariously was better than nothing at all.

Closing up his briefcase, he turned his head when he realized that someone was standing behind him – a bright-eyed, almost fairytale-esque young woman. He could easily imagine her face featured in paintings of fae or heroines, yet her sweetness also seemed to hold a glint of sharpness underneath.

Shaking his head, Will turned back around and secured the briefcase with its snaps. "Class is over for the day," he muttered, "though I imagined that would've been a given, what with the entire room being _empty._ If you're looking for help, I'd suggested comparing notes with a classmate."

Perhaps it had been curt, but Will was not in this business to have close relationships. The less he spoke to his students, the better.

Abigail startled a little. “Well...actually I just wanted to tell you how interesting that was, but never mind.” She trailed off, hoping he would continue their conversation.

Abigail's words gave Will pause and he sneered, re-adjusting his glasses before turning around to face her. "With all due respect, nobody likes a kiss-ass. It won't earn you any brownie points."

Will had never been known for being kind – if anything, in most circles he was known for being an asshole – so his approach, though unorthodox, wasn't exactly uncommon for his dislike of social interaction. Lifting the briefcase off his desk, he turned to fully face her now, his tired expression reflecting a small hint of amusement. "What's your name, brown-noser? I suppose I should get a head-start on figuring out just who to watch out for."

A little taken aback by his retort, Abigail didn’t say anything until he asked her name. She panicked for a fleeting second – was it best to casually omit the truth of her past and for him to find out from others, or tell the truth now and likely have to go through the whole explanation for him?

“I wasn’t kissing ass, I was being serious.” She pursed her lips, deliberating, “and I’m uh… Abigail Hobbs.” She rubbed her forehead nervously, studying his face for any signs of recognition. Hobbs wasn’t exactly an uncommon name, but Jack Crawford could have easily used her dad as teaching material for Will’s own training.

Will's lips pulled back somewhere in between a smile and a grimace, his instincts guiding him into believing she had ulterior motives. Before he could even think to add another acerbic remark, her name gave him immediate pause.

"The Shrike's daughter," he observed, his brows arching high on his head. "They must've vetted you really hard. In my experience, families with _criminal history_ aren't always an easy sell."

Abigail nodded ruefully, a sign of wholehearted agreement that they indeed ‘vetted her hard.’ She had jumped through more hoops and attended more interviews and evaluations than she suspected was customary. “They didn’t exactly make it easy…”

"No, but you're here now, aren't you?" Will countered. "That's always the best form of vengeance – well, if that _is_ in fact what you're seeking." With a hint of bitterness in his tired eyes, he shrugged and waved a hand. "I, myself, couldn't get past the strict screening procedures, so consider yourself lucky. Teaching is evidently the only field they'll allow my services."

He hadn't been certain why he'd felt the need to reveal that information. Perhaps it was because she was so young and full of promise, or perhaps it was because she appeared so unnervingly _sad_ – but whatever the true reason, Will felt put-off by his own admission and lowered his eyes, his mouth forming into a pinched scowl. Despite Abigail initially being a subject of annoyance, Will found a kernel of intrigue forming in the pit of his stomach. "What made you choose this field?"

He had a feeling he knew why – misplaced guilt, atonement, etcetera – but he wanted to hear it from Abigail's perspective.

Professor Graham’s small but bitter digression made her brow furrow slightly in concern, not least because they must have had a solid reason for not letting him join. His question was something she had had to answer for the admissions people what felt like seventeen times. She still bristled at it a little. Maybe it felt insulting in a way, like perhaps they were suggesting she was suffering from some kind of morbid fascination with her father. She most certainly wasn’t. They hadn’t been all that close and she’d been a _child_ when he was caught for his crimes.

She glanced at him and then away. “I suppose I...wanted to stop other people from destroying families.” She wasn’t only referring to those of the victims. The first few months after the news broke had been full of sidelong looks and whispered comments, that neither she nor her mother could bear. Though moving had helped in that respect, there would always be stigma...as Will had just demonstrated.

"It's a noble cause," he assured her. "The truth is, we don't _need_ a reason to want this job, but the higher-ups more or less demand one. We're understandably held to a higher standard, so I hope you won't mind that I'll be holding your feet to the fire." He lifted a brow with an almost challenging quirk. "Are you sure you can handle it, Hobbs? I don't plan on going easy on you, nor playing favorites – being a serial killer's daughter might earn you repute in some circles, but not in mine. You'll have to prove your worth like all the rest." Looking down at her over the rims of his glasses, a ghost of a smile finally appeared on his lips.

She allowed herself a small smirk of amusement at his teasing. His demeanour seemed prickly but his tone was downright playful. “I’m sure I’ll be up to it.” Abigail blushed a little. Was she _flirting?_ Ughh. She shook herself.

Will folded his arms. "I should hope so – success in this field requires a firm grip. Ahh...on one's faculties. It's definitely not for the squeamish." Noting the faint ruddiness to Abigail's cheeks, he arched a brow and mentally backtracked. Had he said something inappropriate? Uncouth?

“Anyway...don’t you like teaching? You really have some great insights.” Abigail caught herself flattering him yet again.

With a low scoff in his throat, Will's smile returned and his eyes flashed wryly beneath his glasses. "You really don't quit, do you, brown-noser? Though I suppose I can't fault you there – I wouldn't be allowed in this position if I weren't _somewhat_ equipped." Shrugging, he glanced at the clock before looking down at her again. "It has its merits," he finally said. "I enjoy getting to shape our future, though I can't help but want to be part of that future, too. I feel as though my gifts are better served beyond the classroom."

 _Or perhaps not._ Perhaps the Bureau's fears about him were completely on the mark. Smile fading, Will cleared his throat. "Well, uh...perhaps you should get on home now. After all, I suspect you'll be studying hard to win my favor."

Abigail nodded along politely, her thoughts more on the fact they were still standing here chatting away...getting to know each other, you could say. His gentle nudge for her to go snapped her into reality. Was she bothering him? Or had he just realised how casual this had become too?

“Probably.” She quipped dryly and turned to go. “See you later.” This had not gone like she expected at _all_...but she found she was smiling.

*

Will felt oddly tense. Despite his conversation with the Hobbs girl being (mostly) harmless, he'd left work feeling anxious and nettled. A trip to the library or a long, stiff drink often cured his inner tensions, but after this particular occasion, something far more radical seemed necessary. So after grabbing his duffel bag from his car, he headed into the provided shooting range to blow off some steam.

The first few rounds had been almost pleasant. With each snap and recoil, he could feel bits of his tension draining away. Or at least, it _had_ been until the door opened and a pair of familiar, wide blue eyes locked with his own.

_Shit._

Abruptly misfiring, Will gave a jerk when his target shuddered from being struck. The bullet had gone through the uppermost top corner and, disquieted, Will muttered to himself and began to reload. So much for a pleasant distraction...

Abigail had to fight to keep her face mostly neutral as Professor Graham made an ass of his shot. He was clearly a little embarrassed but then, so was she. She knew her cheeks were probably flushing despite her efforts – damn pale skin. “Sorry…” She started helplessly, not sure why she was actually apologising. “I can...uh...leave you alone?” Why was she so nervous?

There were no rules to say that you couldn’t have more than one person in there, and she had only wanted to check it out, not necessarily do any shooting. He didn’t answer for a moment and the atmosphere was instantly loaded.

Sensing Abigail coming further into the room, Will made a point of not making eye contact. Despite her being a subject of interest and, dare he mention her being rather easy on the eyes, he wasn't interested in creating a friendship with a cadet. Things could go terribly wrong in many a manner of ways.

Keeping his eyes on the target, Will grimaced and set his weapon off to the side. "I'm a bit rusty," he muttered, "though I suppose that much is obvious... No harm, no foul."

Judging by the delicate blush on Abigail's face, _something_ was teetering on the verge of being inappropriate. Had he done something wrong?

Clearing his throat, Will gestured toward the target. "Did you want to try? I'm assuming you'll be starting training with Brigham before long, but I don't mind seeing what you've got beneath that...uh..." Trailing off, he flashed her a brief once-over.

Abigail’s mouth tugged at the corner in a tiny smirk. She really wanted to know what he had been going to say, but she didn’t think she could ask. She wasn’t sure if this banter with her professor was normal for post grad life or if one – or both – of them was overstepping. He _was_ good-looking, but was she making it weird and he was just having to be polite?

With a little apprehension, she tilted her head. “I...was just looking around. I really hadn’t planned on shooting anything today.” She held his gaze, though her heart was racing at the prospect of having him watch her.

Will's brows arched high on his head. With a low, amused chuckle that rumbled in his chest, he asked, "You really came out to look around this singular room? Granted, they gave the walls a fresh coat of paint, but I doubt that'll be enough to titillate you."

His sarcasm earned him a sideways look. Abigail had to remind herself this was her teacher before she rolled her eyes or shot back anything inappropriate. “You know what I meant.”

Gesturing toward her, he offered, "While you're here, I might as well show you a stance or two. Brigham will be impressed, and we'll also get a chance to limber you up in time for Hogan’s Alley."

She rubbed her neck, a little flustered about his offer that would involve going closer to him, in this empty room. Was that even allowed? “What’s Hogan’s Alley?” She asked, stalling for time.

Abigail's demeanor was apprehensive, which automatically gave Will room for pause. "It's a fake town made for FBI training," he said. "I'm surprised nobody's ever mentioned it to you. It's typically the pivotal moment of every cadet's training." He flashed her a wry smile. "At this rate, I'm not so sure you could kick my ass. Perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised."

Not wanting to cross a line didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give as good as she got. She raised her brows and responded to both statements in one. “It _is_ only my first day...” Abigail had no intention of having him think she was a silly little girl and it strengthened her resolve, “But I’ll give it go.”

She took a few steps towards him. Damn, he smelled good. So much for not being a silly little girl.

"Already making excuses are you, Hobbs?" Will folded his arms, sidling toward her when she began inching forward. "Telling a perp 'it's my first day' isn't going to fly in the real world, you know. They'll eat you for breakfast."

Without warning, he lunged forward and took hold of Abigail's shoulders, spinning her around and pinning her neck and torso in between his strong arms. Breathing into her ear, he berated, "See? The key is to be _alert_ – you weren't expecting the unexpected. That was your first mistake."

Abigail had barely had time to register what was happening. He was stronger than he looked. She was about to chew him out when his low voice tickled her ear and for a second she forgot to be mad.

Loosening his hold somewhat, Will kept her in his headlock, anchoring her smaller, undeniably _soft_ frame against his own.

Wriggling free, she rounded on him, telling herself the flush on her cheeks had only risen out of anger. “Do you manhandle all your students?” She eyed him accusingly. “I mean I get the point you’re making but…” She trailed off, flustered.

Will sneered, amused at the flecks of red that stained her cheeks. Though the moment she seethed her accusation, he lost his cocksure smile and paled somewhat.

"It's not manhandling, it's… _training.”_ Yeah. Smooth recovery. "Besides, I'd hardly call a headlock manhandling. What are you going to accuse Brigham of when he tests you all? Besides, I _did_ give you fair warning." Busying his hands by putting his gun back into the case he'd brought, he looked over his shoulder with a hint of scorn. "What do you weaker types typically require for compensation, hmm? Do I have to ‘kiss it better?’”

Abigail wasn’t even sure what she was most ruffled about. Sure his grabbing her was uncalled for, but joking about kissing it better? Was that some kind of messed up sense of humour, was he a total creep or was he flirting for real? There was no appropriate way to ask which, really, and she didn’t know what answer she was after.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “I’m not weak.” She protested quickly, and a little too vehemently for her own liking. Though she understood what he was doing – backtracking and trying to cover his ass – this whole encounter suddenly felt… _wrong._ “I just didn’t think there was any need for that.”

"Then tell me your preferred method of training, and we can go from there," Will countered. "I may be a hard-ass, but it's not my intention to scare away my students. Or at least, not the good ones."

Spreading her arms helplessly, Abigail shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t expecting just running into my professor to turn into training.” She gave him as withering a look as she would allow herself to give a teacher.

"What? So you're the boring type who doesn't enjoy learning after school?" Will ribbed, a faint smile on his lips. That amusement, however slight, only augmented at the scowl she gave him. It was almost _cute_ how she thought she could make him run for the hills.

Abigail frowned. “Maybe I should just go.”

Appraising the discomfort on her face, Will frowned. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. You can leave if you'd like, but I'd rather you not leave on account of something I've done or said."

Abigail softened at his plea. He did seem genuine. Perhaps he wasn’t skeevy, but was just as awkward as she was. Although she didn’t know what to do with herself if she stayed, she didn’t want to get off to such a bad start. “Well...if you’re sure.”

Nodding at her question, Will slung his bag over his shoulder and promised, "I don't mind. You're the only student who hasn't kissed my ass with the intention of good grades. Instead, you’ve kissed my ass for the sake of being my intern. Or at least, that's what I've garnered from our conversations." He flashed her a smile. "And _that_ at the very least, implies that I owe you a shot. Just this once." He gestured toward the door. "I'm actually about done, so unless you want to take me up on that stance correction, I suppose you can follow me out."

The dawning realisation of what he was saying had Abigail’s eyes widening in surprise. She opened her mouth to protest but then quickly thought better of it. She hadn’t been angling for that at all, but if he wanted her as an intern she wasn’t going to turn it down. Despite the mess of this encounter, it was nowhere near a reason not to take up an offer that would undoubtedly help her career. She pulled herself together and returned a small smile.

“Thanks…professor Graham.” She added, sensing once again that this had all gotten a little too familiar.

Will turned toward her with a lopsided smile. "C'mon, then. Let's get out of here before I change my mind." He motioned as if he might tap her arm, thought better of it, and instead put his hand into his pocket before heading toward the door.

Abigail followed him out, feeling entirely bemused by her first day.

They went their separate ways and she caught herself glancing back at her young professor as he walked away. She gave herself a stern talking to for this behaviour before heading back to her apartment.


End file.
